Poppy Skeeter's Very Secret Diary
by Hazel Whinlatter
Summary: Rita Skeeter's only child - a Hogwarts student who'd rather be at Beauxbatons. Armed with only a quill, parchment and an acerbic wit, will Hogwarts be changed hereafter, or will the school change her instead?
1. Platform 9 34, King's Cross Station

**Title: **Poppy Skeeter's Very Secret Diary

~*~

**Genre: **Humour

**Rating:** PG13

**Inspiration:** "Natalia Adani and the boys of Hogwarts" by Rachel Perez. (A fantastic fic – if you haven't already, I highly recommend that you read it. And if you're out there, Hayley - *waves* hi!!!)

~*~

**Summary:** Rita Skeeter's only child – a Hogwarts student at her mother's wishes. Armed with only a quill, parchment and an acerbic wit, will Hogwarts be changed hereafter, or will the school change her instead?

~*~

**Disclaimer:** Hogwarts, other Wizarding institutions and any characters you recognise are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. The characters you don't, especially Poppy, are mine. I'm writing this for a laugh, not to make a profit.

~*~

**Poppy Skeeter's Very Secret Diary**

**By:** shewhodares

~*~

**Date:** 1st September, 1991.

**Place:** Platform 9 ¾, King's Cross Station, London.

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

After all this time, after all the arguments we've had about where I'm going to school, how does my mother wish me goodbye? She kisses me on the cheek, puts a look of hard-done-by sadness on her face, and says _"Have a nice time at Hogwarts, darling!"_

I hate her.

But perhaps I should explain myself. If you're reading this years from now (in which case I want to know what the hell you're doing reading my diary), I don't want you to think that I'm some horrible little cow with no manners. In fact, I'm quite the opposite, it's just that my mum could tire the patience of a saint. 

Actually, that's a little unfair. Let's make it a saint with an extra shiny halo who's just won 'The Daily Heaven Press' award for Holy Personality of the Year – the hundredth year running. That'd be _slightly_ more accurate. But I digress. 

My mother is Rita Skeeter – the woman who personifies the saying "the pen is mightier than the sword". Some old bloke said that – I don't know who, but bloody hell, he was spot on. The Skeeter name is mud in the Wizarding world because of articles that my mum's written. Pretty much everyone's scared of her and her ability to wield words like weapons. If she takes a dislike to you – you've had it, my nosy little friend. Nothing stops her when she's on a roll, and when she wants to get a story, there's no such thing as stooping too low. Stop me if you're getting scared already.

What puzzles me is what on earth made my dad marry her. They met at school – yes, the infamous Hogwarts – but whereas he's a shy and retiring little mouse, a reasonably decent person, she's a ruthless dragon of a woman who makes and drops friends like dirty tissues (guess what house she was in). I'm starting to think that he was scared of her, too – scared into marrying her, that is.

My point – and I do have one, believe it or not – is that Hogwarts is at the centre of all this mess. I figured that if I was brought up like Mum was, I'd turn out like her – Merlin forbid – so my idea was to avoid her old school like the plague. I convinced Dad that Beauxbatons was a better choice, and things were all going to plan – 

Until she found out.

Several yelling-matches later, we'd established the following.

One, I was going to Hogwarts, and that was final.

End of list. 

Isn't democracy wonderful? 

Ms Skeeter Snr has this incredible idea that as I'm her only daughter, I'm going to follow in her footsteps. To put it in her words – "It's your duty to do your name proud". Silly bint hasn't figured out that the best way to do that is to be as unlike her as possible, but that doesn't help me one bit.

So here I am, on Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station. On one side of me, there's 'Worst Mum In The World' TM, who's now crying hysterically about losing her _darling baby daughter_ (and attracting several funny looks while she's at it, attention seeker that she is), on the other's a manky looking steam engine that's due to leave any minute now, and here I am in the middle, clutching what's left of my luggage and desperately wishing I wasn't here.

Now I come to think of it, that manky old train is looking more and more attractive by the second.

Hey, it's either that or stay here and risk further embarrassment. I'd call it an exercise in damage limitation. 

So what do I do? Quickly mutter "bye mum" (Dad didn't come to the station – he's got more brains than I thought, that bloke), and before she can squeeze the last breath out of me, make a run for it. 

Thank Merlin these doors lock.

The last sight I'll see of Mum before the Christmas hols – an ever decreasing speck of peroxide fluff on the horizon. Sheer bliss. You know, I bitch about her a lot, but the best thing she ever did for me was buy me this book of parchment and a long lasting quill from Diagon Alley. Yeah, she did it hoping that it would bring out the roving reporter in me (and bring me closer to a Skeeter-ful end), but it does mean that should anything interesting happen over the next few months, I can write it down in case it's useful. Oooh, the possibilities.

Wait – I sound like her already! _Crap!_ Still, I can be better than her. I could easily get gossip like she does, but use it against people who actually deserve it (like my dear darling mummy, for instance). I can't wait.

My name is Poppy Skeeter, and this is my diary.

_~ * THE END * ~_

A/N: Yay, a new fic! I didn't originally plan to begin writing this so soon, but the plot bunny's been hopping around for a while now, and as I've put off writing more "In the name of Helga" and "The Magic of the Night", my more difficult works, until my finals finish on June 20th, I've decided to get this (more light-hearted) fic underway as a relaxation method more than anything else.

As I said, this was inspired by the lovely Hayley (Rachel Perez), so if you've read this, go read her Natalia Adani fic, and you'll see why I wanted to write a diary in the first place. 

Also currently in the works as a bit of light hearted fun is "The Rivendell Rouge", a suitably mad spoof of "Moulin Rouge" and "The Lord of the Rings", so if you're a fan of either, take a  look. 

And if you've got this far already – **READ AND REVIEW!!! Cheers, m'dears ;)**

*** ~ shewhodares ~***


	2. The Sorting Ceremony, Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: **Hogwarts, other Wizarding institutions and any characters you recognise are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. The characters you don't, especially Poppy, are mine. I'm writing this for a laugh, not to make a profit.

~*~

**Special A/N:** This fic is in the same universe as _In the name of Helga_, which explains the other OC's and coincidences that you may read during the course of this story. Thanks for listening :)

~*~

**Poppy Skeeter's Very Secret Diary.******

**By **shewhodares

~*~

_Later the same day_

**Place:** Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

I'm going to kill myself.

No, wait – as it's her fault, I'm going to kill my mother instead.

Seeing as you are still here, (can't you read? It's called a secret diary for a reason, you know), you probably want an explanation for these threats. Well, in that case, you obviously haven't met my mother. She'd create suicidal tendencies in even the happiest of people. But secondly, the situation I'm currently in is worthy of a life sentence in Azkaban for child abuse, in my opinion. 

The people in charge here at Hogwarts obviously think that boring new students to death is a suitable welcome. First of all, they keep them waiting in this tiny ante-chamber (the damp in here is SO bad for my complexion) with the assorted freaks and geeks with whom they'll endure the next seven years (talk about cramping your style!). Second, a bunch of ghosts floating through the wall does NOT constitute any sort of entertainment. Third, the Hogwarts uniform (as opposed to the robes at Beauxbatons, made of simply gorgeous blue silk that would look FANTASTIC on me) makes the wearer look as though they're draped in third-rate blackout curtains. Great – I look like a bat.

Although that _could come in handy for scaring people._

Anyway, back to the point – the Sorting. So-called highlight of the term – not that there's much competition, mind you – and what happens? We have to listen to a _hat_. That _sings. _

I really have heard it all now.

Just for the record, this isn't the song that the hat actually sang. However, and I think you'll agree, it's much more appropriate.

_The professors here are tyrants,_

_What dictators they are,_

_Another year they've made me sing – _

_Inducing nausea!_

_You'd better wear me properly – _

_Not at a jaunty slant_

_I sort the brats at __Hogwarts__School__,_

_And I am arrogant._

_Don't think that there is anything_

_That you can hide from me – _

_Because I can, I'll read your mind – _

_Forget your privacy!_

_Your home might be in Gryffinwhore – _

_Believed to be the best.___

_They talk about their daring deeds – _

_Stupidity to the rest.___

_Then again there's Whattapuff – _

_Known for their loyalty.___

_They see the good in everyone – _

_Blind to the truth, you see._

_You could be a true Raven-bore – _

_If so, I'd be ashamed._

_Intelligent but slightly dull,_

_They simply are all brain._

_Then even worse, there's Slythergit – _

_Most true to self of all.___

_In causing trouble and despair _

_Those serpents have a ball._

_So, little first years, here you are,_

_Take heed of what I yell – _

_Better prepare yourself right now_

_For seven years of hell!_

Fan-bloody-tastic. Just as I've put on an outfit that makes me look like a female Dracula (but with better hair), and listened to an object worn on a head telling me where I'll lose mine, I find out that none of the houses here suit me at all.

What I need is a house for people with all their brain cells in place who aren't likely to spend every waking hour in the library avoiding the people who are too naïve to recognise the ruthless gits who are out to get the people with only half a brain. 

I think I need a lie down. 

I knew Beauxbatons was a better idea.

OK, OK, seeing as I'll have to put up with these nutters for the foreseeable future (a getaway plan is in order, methinks), time to entertain myself as I see fit while everyone else gets sorted.

Making fun of them it is, then.

~*~

Things have gone from bad to worse.

My only chance for sustained sanity was that all the prats got put into the same house, and I got sorted into one of the other three.

So what happens?

The stupid hat spreads 'em out. I'm definitely someone who doesn't suffer fools gladly, even in small doses.

First blood goes to Huffle(Whatta)puff. Definitely a pattern emerging there – the mummy's boys and daddy's girls who'll no doubt won't be up for any REAL fun.

Raven(bore)claw – well, need I say more? Ooh, that rhymed. See, I can do intelligent too – except that my brand of intelligence isn't the type you need to get on the honour roll.

The best kind.

After them came the first Gryffin(whore)dors – the older students at their table looked like the kind to get up to allsorts. Juvenile stuff, probably, but it's a start.

Definitely ripe for corruption ;)

Slyther(git)rin – the last house to get its first new student. I'm telling you something, I've never seen such a motley crue. Minger after slimy creep after junior Death Eater – I shouldn't have been surprised.

I mean, what other house could have produced my mother?

Definitely not looking forward to this.

~*~

Just been sorted – one word sums it up.

_Bugger.___

At least Mum'll be pleased.

~*~

Hang on, I wanted to irritate the woman, why the hell did I come up with that idea?

To make matters worse, my new Slytherin housemates could have come straight from a "Most Wanted" list. They smell like they've been on the run for weeks anyway. 

Let me introduce my 'mates' (please note that this is an example of sarcasm, which is probably far too subtle for anyone who thinks that the word "secret" on a document means you're SUPPOSED to read it) to you.

First to enter the snake's den was Millicent Bulstrode – a huge, mountain of a girl with a face like a bulldog who's bitten a wasp.

And I'll have to share a dorm with this creature.

Following her were two boys – Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle – who looked like male Millicents. Either that, or she looked like a female Vingory (my collective name for them, seeing as they never seem to be apart anyway). It's hard to tell which.

But back to the list of the condemned.

Mum will definitely be happy when she hears the next name of my next housemate.

Draco Malfoy.

The Malfoys are famous in the Wizarding world, basically because they're rich, but Draco's dad, Lucius, works for the Ministry of Magic – making him an automatic target for the poisoned quill of Ms Rita Skeeter. I'd always thought she had it in for Malfoy Snr in the same way that all reporters do for politicians, but having just seen his son, I'm convinced that the whole "woman scorned" thing has something to do with it.

Stop it, Poppy. 

I blatantly refuse to fancy someone who appears to have bathed in a vat of hair gel. (And anyway, the next Slytherin guy, Alec Moon, is a much tastier prospect. Tall, dark, handsome – definitely someone to fall for having achieved world domination.)

Someone with other ideas – Pansy Parkinson – was the next girl to be sorted into Slytherin. A po (or should that be pug?) faced girl with the most insipid grin ever seen on Planet Earth, who on reaching the House table, bypassed everybody and went straight for Malfoy. 

Ha.

Could say I felt sorry for him, but I'm not gonna.

Hogwarts just got ten times more interesting.

Next Slytherin? Michael Pritchard. He looked pretty boring to be honest, which automatically makes him a one to watch.

You know what they say about the quiet ones, after all.

Yours truly followed Michael, and I am pleased to report that there was a glimmer of interest in Moon's eyes as I approached. Well, with a choice between pug-face, bulldog-face and me, who do you think he'd go for?

At least they make me look good in comparison. Not that I didn't anyway, of course – 

A-hem. 

Someone else with a parent deserving a lifetime in Azkaban is Holly Wimple. WIMPLE? What woman in her right mind would marry a man with a ridiculous surname and then not have the decency to decline passing it on to her offspring?

Well, my mum's not in her right mind.

Thing is, as soon as Wimple (I can't even say her name without sniggering. Oh, the possibilities) sat down, her cheese rating bypassed Cheddar and Brie when she said 

"I know my name sounds innocent, but I'm not"

and winked at Pritchard.  

Straight to Gorgonzola.

However, am prepared to forgive this indiscretion, as she a) didn't wink at Alec, and b) the implication of her statement is that she's game for that age-old extra curricular known as classmate-corrupting.

Could get to like this girl.

Last of the newbies was Blaise Zabini – a girl who, on the Hogwarts Express, had been seen wearing a t-shirt emblazoned (notice the pun?) with the slogan "ambiguous name, definitely all woman".

She's only eleven! 

If she goes anywhere near Alec, mark my words, SHE WILL DIE.

I wonder if Holly lists murder as a hobby. 

Now, as much as I'm sure you'd love to read further about my first day at Hogwarts, I'm going to leave you to your own devices – I bet you wish you were me, don't you? ;) 

_With tongue firmly in cheek,_

**Poppy Skeeter**

**X**

_~ * THE END * ~_

**A/N:** Voila, another chapter! Incidentally, at the last count, Chapter One had thirteen reviews, making it the most successful of my stories so far. So, as a 'thanks' for all the lovely people out there who said something nice (all of you, yay!), it's dedicated to each and every one of you. I couldn't write without ya :) .

**Grayson Hunter** – I'm glad you enjoyed it, and as for your review, that was quick! Go you!

**SithTahiri** – I'll try :)

**Adele** – As always, your review made me smile – and I'm definitely glad you like Poppy. She's the personification of the Slytherin in me! As for Helga, I PROMISE that I'll write some more when my finals are done. It's gonna be important, so you'll have to wait a couple more weeks ;)

**She's A Star** – I also imagine that being related to Rita Skeeter would be awful, so hopefully that'll add some humour to the fic! Let it be known that as much as I complain about *my* mother, RS is the worse by far :) 

**Kat Hallowell** – Look, I updated quickly! Does that mean I get a cookie? You get one when I get to read the next chapter of Wild Kat! :)

**ginnyweasly16 **– No, it's not over. I just felt that King's Cross and the Sorting were two separate events, meriting two separate entries in her diary. Thanks for the compliment, although I'm not sure who or what it was you didn't like! 

**DreamStar14** – Thankyou sweetie. I like the idea too :)

**hobbsey – It's a coincidence, I just like the name Poppy! I figure with a surname like Skeeter, she deserves a pretty first name! Definitely you like it so far. Oh, and I'll write my next "Magic" chapter after finals, so expect it then :)**

**phoenixdreams – Hopefully this chapter was a decent length! I wanted to keep that one short anyway to test the water. More stuff will happen when term starts anyway, so naturally, the succeeding chapters should have more content.**

**Fiery Wordess** – Love the name :) Yes, I intend to write more, covering the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone timescale. I hope you enjoy it!

Finally, if any of you made it this far, a special note – as Gryffindor gets most of the attention in canon, I always intended to write a fic for each of the "minority" houses, with perhaps the odd Gryffindor cameo. For any of you who've read it, "In the name of Helga" is obviously my Hufflepuff fic, and this is my Slytherin fic, with one main character as opposed to ten. Who knows, this summer I may even get an idea for a Ravenclaw story.

**Anyways, goodbye, sayonara, auf widersehen, au revoir, ciao and adios, and READ AND REVIEW! Thanks :))**

**~ * shewhodares * ~**


	3. The Morning After

**Disclaimer:** Hogwarts, other Wizarding institutions and any characters you recognise are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. The characters you don't, especially Poppy, are mine. I'm writing this for a laugh, not to make a profit.

~*~

**Poppy Skeeter's Very Secret Diary**

**By** shewhodares

~*~

_2nd September, 1991_ - Monday__

This cannot be good.

Following last night's debacle at the Sorting Ceremony (there can't possibly be another way for me to end up in Slytherin – can there?), was led to the dormitories by a foul mouthed (and looking, while we're on the subject) prefect, who introduced himself as "Dippet". Dip-stick, more like, but seeing as _you're still here_, I might as well tell you about what happened when we actually got down to the first year dorms.

First of all, they're in the dungeons. That's right – where they used to keep P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S. If that isn't a bad enough omen, I don't know what is. 

Second – I have to share a room with Bulldog, Pug, Tart and Gorgonzola, and if that thought doesn't frighten you, nothing will. Then again, am pretty tough for an eleven year old, so will endure this for the sake of ~ something. Haven't quite figured out the purpose of my being here yet.

Still further, I digress (see the effect this place is having on me?).

We get there, the place looks like something out of a horror film. And no, horror films are not 'too scary' for me. Have put up with Mother for eleven years. Pug, showing the only spark of intelligence I think we'll ever see from her, belatedly realises that this is where they expect us to sleep for the next seven years, and says –

"But, but – it's so dark!"

And starts looking around as if she expects bats to fly out of the light fittings (now there's an idea!).

"I guess that's understandable" I replied, all expression wiped from my face, "seeing as we're underground."

Holly (have decided Gorgonzola too cruel nickname for potential best friend) started snickering in a suitably derisive fashion, Tart tried – and failed – to hide disdain for PP's lack of brain power, and Bulldog – looked like a confused Bulldog. 

As I tried to get some sleep with the sound of someone's snoring filling my ears, I figured that this term could be a little too long for my own liking.

Need best friend quickly, or will die of boredom.

Or possibly sleep deprivation.

~*~

I woke this morning to find new room-mates looking even more bemused / confused / plain stupid than normal. Turns out that someone (I can't bring myself to say some 'thing') had been into the dorms and dumped our new uniforms on the chairs next to our beds – and Queen Pansy of the Pug face was not impressed.

I suppose it makes a change from being impressed with Draco 'more hair gel than a beauty salon' Malfoy. 

"Someone's been in here!" she shrieked. "These clothes weren't here last night!"

"Top marks for observation, Pansy" said Holly, before catching my eye and miming stabbing the silly bint. "We're in a School of Magic, we need some sort of uniform to wear."

"But, but – someone in here, while we're sleeping?" whimpers Pug. "It's so freaky!"

"Hello, School of MAGIC?" Holly repeated. "Haven't you ever heard of transportation charms? _Or House Elves_" she muttered to me from the side of her mouth.

"Oh ~"

"It's not like anyone would want to kidnap you at any rate, Pans. They'd get fed up of your whining and leave you to be trampled by a Hippogriff after ten minutes."

"Here's hoping."

This was from Tart, who has therefore gone up a notch in my estimation. If she carries on much longer, just might start refer to her using her real name.

Doesn't mean I'd actually like her, though.

Leaving Pug to practice her 'hard-done-by martyr' look (with only Bulldog for an audience), the rest of us picked up our respective heap of cotton and wool and headed for the bathrooms to change. First breakfast and class coming up – want to make a good impression after all.

But not the type of good impression that you're probably thinking of.

_~ * THE END * ~_

**A/N: **I know this was kind of short, but I wanted to make the before/after class entries separate ones. And of course, having been away for a while, I want to update! Thanks to all of you who have kept on reviewing, I don't have a list with me so – consider yourselves well and truly thanked, everyone! 

I'll try and get my next chapter of "Helga" started in a few days. Hope you're all there – now please, R+R?

**Shewhodares**

**xx******


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